Dream of Me
by Lily Hansen
Summary: A study of human interference during dreams between the architect and the point man.
1. Chapter 1

A quick idea that popped into my head; right now there's only four small chapters. I may add more later - in fact, I'm sure I will. Enjoy! Reviews appreciated.

* * *

"But, projections, they're... essentially human influence, aren't they?"  
Arthur nodded slowly, once or twice. "Excellent point. But, human influence, that wasn't originally a projection in your dream. Seeing how pow-"  
"How powerful and aware the body is during dream state." Ariadne finished, leaning back into the table where sketches and mazes were sprawled out in front of her. She was an unmistakably quick learner, and when someone began to explain something, it wasn't rare for Ariadne to be able to finish, putting it better than they could themselves.  
Even though Saito's job was long since finished, the team had stuck mostly together, training and perfecting skills. When the time came, to get Cobb back from tarrying in limbo, they'd be more than ready. Though Ariadne didn't see all the points of this exercise, Arthur rarely insisted they do something unless it was important. With Cobb gone, he was more or less the leader of the pack.  
With the only rein on her subconscious not being allowed to use memories, Ariadne was letting it roam free for the experiment. Like she had during her first meeting with Cobb, buildings turned upon themselves and sprouted quicker than anyone would have thought possible. And now, now she was doing the same thing.  
Ariadne and Arthur both concluded that different people had a different resistance to human contact, so successfully, they'd have all members of the team participate. For now, it was Ariadne. "Assuming that Eames isn't going to be the one stroking my arm while I'm sleeping, you'll be here?" Her eyes met Arthur's, with the same depth that they had met on so many occasions before. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, unnoticeable to Arthur.  
"I'll be here." He nodded in confirmation. Ariadne adjusted the scarf around her neck, and laid back in the white pool-like chair, while Arthur knelt beside her, attaching the IV to her skin. A piece of medical tape was wrapped around her wrist and she laughed. "I've been doing this so many times, but I still get that feeling, every time."  
"I know."  
"You know? Oh, right. Your sleuthing skills enable you to know everything."  
"Exactly. What kind of Point Man would be if I didn't?" In one forceful prod, Arthur pushed his finger down into the bubble, a delicate blue light illuminating from within. Ariadne sucked in a deep breath and dropped her eyes to consider her wrist. Her eyelids fluttered close.


	2. Chapter 2

The transition from reality into dreams was generally a long one; since most had to fall asleep before the dreams began. Thinking about their day, things they had to do tomorrow, emotions, tasks, it made the journey a lot longer. With the help of the chemicals though, Ariadne's body gently went limp, her muscles relaxing and her subconscious waking up. A slow, deep breath slipped off her lips as her head lolled to the side.  
She was sitting at a desk, in a expensively upholstered chair. There were sheets of paper in front of her, a slim black pen resting at a perfect angle on top of them. Slowly raising up off the seat, she went to the window and peered streets of Paris greeted her, a similar cafe to her first workshop across the way. _Going off things you know. A street lamp. Something, but not exact. _She retreated silently back to the seat, pulled the chair out, sliding it parallel to the window. The feeling, as she had learned was an incredible crucial part of dream construction, was void of other people. Just the hotel room, herself and a sense of being slightly cramped surrounded her. Nothing to interfere, to draw her attention way or invade her personal space.  
Arthur's hand stretched out, and lowered down onto Ariadne's hand. He caressed it back and forth and waited, watching her face closely. Even the slightest twitch or tense of a muscle was important, a sign that she was feeling something. The architect's face remained blank.  
Some part of her brain wondered how long it would take before she'd feel Arthur. Or what he'd do to in order to achieve the results they'd want from the tests. She glanced around at the room. The far wall unfolded like a Jacob's Ladder, and grew steadily higher. The other walls followed in its footsteps as Ariadne changed the layout of the building. The deep burgundy color of the wallpaper faded into a light, sandy tan and lighting fixtures molded themselves into something more modern.  
Arthur intertwined his fingers with hers, smirking lightly. The light that filtered through the workshop's windows made the creasing dimple in his face prominent, something that Ariadne would have taken notice of. When she still remained impassive, he gave her fingers a light squeeze.

"Never use memories." She breathed out. Ariadne watched as the building continued to rebuild itself, being reborn into something more pleasing for her. "But memories of a dream..." The Parisian styled hotel, with its Victorian decor was now forming into a hotel she'd been in, in a dream, some time ago. The skin between her fingers tingled with a slight sensation of pressure. Room 491.


	3. Chapter 3

Beneath the thin skin of her eyelids, Ariadne's eyes moved back and forth, then dropping down to her hand, where Arthur's fingers still were. Ariadne lifted her hand, studying the small features in her hand. If she focused hard enough, she could almost make out the vague outline of their hand embrace. The room was nearly complete with its renovation, the last brick sliding into place. Ariadne looked around, swallowing. She know what Cobb would say. 'Never use memories. This is dangerous, Ariadne. Think of Mal.' But like Arthur had said, Cobb spends a lot of time doing what he says he shouldn't.  
The workshop was silent. During the day, most of them had free hours where they could go live their lives as normally as possible. Arthur's dark eyes scanned the place in vain, confirming their solitude. He stood up, only to sit on the edge of the chair. The outer part of Ariadne's calf touched his lower back.  
The timer was set for fifteen minutes, translating to three hours here. Everything in the room was hardly exact. Ariadne refused to let it be, and purposely shifted her memory, keeping certain things out of place. Arthur adjusted, bringing his arms to rest on each side of Ariadne's waist. To say that their chemical attraction had been contained would be a lie. It had however, been monitored closely, keeping as much of it down as possible. Occasionally, they slipped. Less occasionally, other members of the team saw it. Arthur inhaled a shallow breath and leaned over Ariadne. Her lips were pouted, corners of her mouth relaxed downward, despite her facial muscles being slack. The air around Ariadne was suddenly warmer, more appealing. Arthur leaned closer, small gusts of his pent up breath escaping over her forehead. He brought his legs on either side of hers, now bracing himself on all fours. Ariadne raised her head to stare at the ceiling. Her lower lip jutted outwards, curiosity taking over her face.  
Intelligence, creativity. Technically, she was the first female in the group, and in his opinion, a perfect pick. Not just because she was... so... impressive, but she was exactly what the team needed. Arthur's chest lowered as he let the rest of the air in his lungs wash over Ariadne's face. A few strands of hair blew backwards off her face as she stared up at the ceiling.


	4. Chapter 4

Supporting his weight on one arm, Arthur brushed his hand over the length of Ariadne's exposed forearm, navigating around the tape when he reached her wrist. Every second that passed, or every two minutes for Ariadne, the feeling of his body, the pressuring mass of Arthur became more intense, more palpable. Lowering her head, Ariadne turned around, and let gravity take hold once her knees became. Her back hit the bed, bouncing her up into the air three times. She seemed to fall in slow motion, her body going limp in a perfect position.  
His lips parted, tongue poised to whisper her name, begging her to dream of him. Ariadne closed her eyes, spreading her arms out on the bed. Arthur lowered his head. Ariadne's breath caught in her throat.  
"And this what you have to do in order to have excitement in your life, hm? You're going to have to refine your method of suave seduction, Arthur." Arthur froze and lifted his eyes, turning his head to the side. Eames leaned against the wall, rubbing the poker chip between his thumb and pointer finger. "Much harder. Unless this is your way of furtively having a romp in the hay with our architect." Without another word, Eames left Arthur to mull over his taunts, walking back out the main door.  
Ariadne's eyes opened and focused. Right on his. A small smirk completed the moment. "They're not looking. Nobody is."


End file.
